Image from Pixabay, user = ericbarns

Erotic Fiction

A Hen Night to Remember!

A story inspired by a Tweet on the page of someone I follow

Hen nights were the worst, especially when it wasn’t really a friend of yours doing the deed in a day or two. It wasn’t like getting married was going to change her life anyway, they’d been living together for ages. She just wanted the big meringue dress and all the attention. I was a spare tonight and felt it. I wished I’d said no when the trip to London was being discussed.

Making it worse was a minor altercation with some black guy with huge dreadlocks that had spilt his drink down my back. He said I’d backed into him and should give him one but, from the look on his face as he leered down at me, the ‘one’ he was thinking about wasn’t beer. His gold-capped teeth glinted brightly under the lights. Bastard. My shoulders and the back of my skimpy dress were soaked in beer. Maybe my hair as well. I’d stink of it all night now.

Sometimes you were looking for attention but, when a group with a sash proclaiming that they were a wedding party turned up, half the guys seemed to zero in and try and hit that as they thought we were all on one last wild night out. I was sick of it, just sick of it. It was always the same in a club, and this one was a real dive. When the small bit of carpet next to the bar was…